Saying things we haven't in awhile
by Triddlegrl
Summary: Seblaine. Kurtofsky. Contrast and Revelations sequel. Kurt and his friends are all struggling to make their dreams come true and keep love alive, they might need a little help from each other.
1. Chapter 1

Part of my Contrasts and Revelations verse (brought from tumblr) but can be read separately. So the idea to write some Davastian friendship overcame me this morning after seeing Grants and Max's tweets, and the complete idea for this story formed after watching the video to one of my favorite songs. :D The guy just reminded me a lot of Grant and the girl has Kurt like features and my muses work in odd ways. .com/watch?v=CPEBN2dVNUY&ob=av2e

* * *

><p>To Dave: Why did I think I could do this?<p>

Kurt presses send on the message and lays his phone on his chest, not quite ready to give in to crying but past masking them either. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, eyes trained on the ceiling where his roommate has hung icicle lights that spread a soft glow and toss heavy shadows across the room. It's five minutes or so before Dave responds, always seems to be that way these days, and Kurt doesn't respond right away either. He grips the phone and feels its vibrations, making the moment linger and holding the anticipation close to his heart.

It has become sort of his thing, a private game. He holds the phone and counts to ten because once he presses view now it will be over and he will be waiting again. He hates the intervals between texts, between skype dates, between visits more than he hates bad fashion sense and spoiled models who think more of themselves than they should. But he only ever counts to ten because eventually the craving to hear Dave, to have some piece of him even as small as a text always overcomes everything else.

From Dave: Because you can. Jules still giving you problems?

To Dave: He quit on me. The jackass quit two weeks before the show and he knows we won't be able to find another model who can wear his pieces, curse his ridiculous height. Monique and the others are completely freaking out.

From Dave: You're alright though?

To Dave: I have a virtually useless degree in musical theater that I've left gathering dust because I somehow let you convince me I could make some doodles in a notepad couture, and after three years of busting my ass to get here it's all going to shit. What do you think?

From Dave: Taking that as a no.

To Dave: You're so perceptive Dr. Karofsky.

From Dave: Don't have the doctorate yet and don't need one to know you. You always curse more when you're really riled.

To Dave: Well. At least this means I can come back to New York. Sure I'll be stuck serving coffee and scampering after every off off Broadway production that will have me. But I'll get to see you.

From Dave: No way. Not letting you give up. Can't you do it without him?

To Dave: No. Call me vain but the line is nothing without my designs and somehow I let that asshole charm me into thinking he'd be the perfect hanger.

Only he wasn't. Jules was in actuality a self entitled prick who couldn't take no for an answer and when he couldn't get his way decided to be a vindictive asshole.

From Dave: Okay then, babe, forget him. Not to rush but I got night class and I don't get what's going on here. Kurt Hummel doesn't let some stuck up creep stand in his way. Find another model.

Kurt's lips spread into a smile, because he'd wondered how long Dave would humor him.

To Dave: Well I have someone in mind actually but I don't know if he'll do it. He's not one of or regulars but he's done a few shoots for Seventeen that were pretty fantastic.

From Dave: Who?

To Dave: Sebastian.

From Dave: Smythe? Why wouldn't he do it?

Kurt snorts. Maybe because he couldn't stand Sebastian Smythe any more than he could Jules and the feeling was most certainly mutual.

To Dave: Because the last time we saw each other he accused me of trying to drown him.

From Dave: You did push him in the Thames, Kurt.

To Dave: It was an accident. I mean the falling over the rail part. Wiping that irritating smirk off his face was totally intentional.

From Dave: What is it with you two? Just ask him, he'll do it. You know Blaine will make him do it.

To Dave: Yeah he would, if they weren't officially over as of this morning.

From Dave: Again, what now?

To Dave: Distance, the usual. Blaine's still in NY, Sebastian's here. Blaine's worried he's running around with this other intern. Wouldn't surprise me.

From Dave: Yeah it would. Just ask him Kurt.

To Dave: I would, only Blaine's still pretty mad and I want to ease him into the fact that they'll have to see each other in less than two weeks and play nice. I haven't seen either of you in ages and when you're here I want you all to spend the night basking in my triumph. And I want you, David, all to my self and naked for as long as I can keep you that way. Which won't happen if Blaine comes ready to wage war on Sebastian and we have to referee until they combust. Do you think they do it for the hate sex?

From Dave: Don't ask me to figure those two a masters in pyscology and I still can't. I have to get to class, babe. I call Smythe, you're working on Anderson?

To Dave: You're a brilliant man Dr. Karofsky. Sure you can't start Vkay earlier? Paris is lovely in spring and I'm lovelier naked. I could totally be waiting naked for you.

From Dave: Going to class now. Maybe I'll figure out why my boyfriend confuses love with torture and I don't run for my life.

Kurt giggles, presses the phone to his chest for a moment as he lets the giggles turn into out right laughter. Three months is just too long to go without seeing his boyfriend. They are both doing what they want, following their dreams and he knows it's only temporary but he misses him just the same.

To Dave: Love me?

From Dave: Always.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Listing ID: 58ANI0344A**_  
><em>Grad student Male, looking for career focused female to<em>

"Why does she have to be career focused though?"Dave asked, pausing over his keyboard. On the line he hears the muffled sound of laughter as his best friend and former roommate from undergrad Indy, unwraps something noisy and chuckles into the receiver. Dave doesn't have to ask what it is, Indy's got a weird thing with mints.

"Because it's Roommate Finder and you don't want some chick moving in who has got the idea that you're running a frat house or are looking for a contracted fuck buddy," Indy replies, making an unseemly sucking sound that Dave knows has more to do with the mint he's working over and nothing he just said. Still the mental image is pretty terrifying and he actually feels his stomach drop imagining inviting some stranger into the tiny apartment that he and Kurt share, who is going to litter the place in booze and tampons and even worse try and crawl in his bed at night. Then he feels kind of silly because he's not sure if those are legitimate worries or not.

"You don't seriously think-"

"That some girls like to party and sleep with their roommates? Crazier things have happened, Dave. Graduation wasn't that long ago man, you remember how it is."

Dave sighs. He does know, and the more he thinks about this whole thing the more certain he becomes it's a very very bad idea. But it's not like he has many options here.

"Okay then why does it have to be a girl at all? That was your advice not my-"

"Because you're gay Dave, capital G gay and living with your partner who is temporarily not living with you but living with a bunch of high maintenance fashonistas in France, because you told him to go for it. What you haven't told him is that you're not letting your dad help with the rent and you quit your job in a stunning show of moral fiber, but unfortunately can't seem to find another either. Which means you're stupid and you'd have been better off sucking it up and taking a pay check but there you go. Moral fiber."

"I'll tell him," Dave insists because he will, he'd never not planned to, but he knows how Kurt will feel. Kurt doesn't need any distractions with his big show coming up and the last thing he wants to do is derail all of Kurt's progress at the House of Stephen because he can't keep up his end of the deal and take care of things back home. "Just not yet. You know Kurt, he'll insist on coming back even if I tell him I'm trying to get a roommate. He'll say this is one of those 'us' things that we work out together."

"Crazy kid. 'Wonder where he gets that?" Indy responds dryly. After a quick suck on his mint he goes on, forgetting his reservations in favor of the problem at hand. "Career minded female Dave, because when Kurt finds out _before_ you tell him, which he will, at least he won't find you cosy with another guy. I see nothing but drama of the romantic comedy variety in your future, and it's not cute because this is not a movie and when Kurt dumps your ass I'll have to haul it out of the gutter and I won't even get a heart warming rain scene for my troubles."

"Alright, well when you're done being a drama queen finish showing me how to do this."

The problem is of course that Dave knows that Indy is probably right. If Kurt finds out he allowed some stranger to move into their space without telling him, he's going to be pissed. Not because he'll honestly worry that Dave's been cheating on him- that's not their issue- but because Kurt has always insisted on honesty between them. So he knows he can't put off telling him for long, and he doesn't plan to. He just wants to make sure it's a done deal first before he has to tell him how much trouble he's having keeping up with rent and school since he dumped his brain on the sidewalk and quit his job in the middle of a recession (over a stupid word). Because then Kurt can't try and do something crazy like back out when he's this close to really making an impression with Stephen.

Isn't that what love is all about, he thinks? Putting the other person before yourself. Well, they've both gotten really good at it, but this time Dave knows that's not in Kurt's best interest so it's his turn. Which reminds him, he needs to call Sebastian later.

*************  
>To Blaine: While you're busy pretending you don't know I've been trying to call you all week and generally just pissing me off, would you mind taking a break and telling me when I can expect to hear from you again? Just if you don't mind.<p>

Sebastian tosses his phone on the counter with a frustrated grunt because he's so irritated with it he doesn't even want to look at it for awhile. He's tired of waiting for it to ring and staring at the screen willing for a little virtual envelope to pop up and Blaine's name to appear. This is really annoyingly typical for him actually. He's twenty eight and still trapped in the same confusing assinine cycle he's been in with the same man since he was eighteen and the word 'exclusive' became part of his dating vocabulary.

On the other end of the counter where it slid when he tossed it, his phone vibrates and he dives for it because he hates himself that much apparently.

From Blaine: When you stop dicking around on me. Go away.

Sebastian grits his teeth at the message on his screen and fights the urge to yank on his hair, because as many times as Blaine gives him that urge he'll probably drive himself into early baldness.

To Blaine: There's nothing going on with me and Andre. I should be ignoring your phone calls and you should be pounding at my door trying to get me to listen because you're sorry you can't stop making up shit in your head and don't have a trusting bone in your body. Can you just come to Paris already? Clearly you can't handle separation.

Sebastian's pretty sure he's not winning any points with Blaine, but he's past caring and no longer in the mood to deal with his boyfriend's, strike that ex boyfriends, dramatics. It's not exactly easy being young and good looking and having a million different offers and turning them all down. But he'd promised they'd be exclusive as long as they were together and they have always been ever since (baring a few flirtations and a couple of drunken kisses in college) because tempting as all those offers might have been, none of them have ever been anything close to what he has.

What he has when it's good and Blaine trusts him god damn it, is pretty amazing and he's not out to fuck that up.

From Blaine: No I am not moving to Paris. I have goals and they don't include putting life on hold so I can trail along behind you keeping you from sticking your dick in everything that smiles at you.  
>From Blaine:Trust you?<br>From Blaine: Why the hell would I do that? And relieve the last time?  
>From Blaine: No fucking thanks. Leave me alone Seb.<p>

Blaine's response comes in a furious stream of texts and Sebastian smirks because getting Blaine riled up enough to argue is usually half the battle. He knows exactly what 'last time' he's referring to though and that annoys him because it's totally unfair to bring Jay into this.

To Blaine: I don't understand how sleeping with someone when you're not my boyfriend is reason for you not to trust me.

From Blaine: It is when you were flirting with him before we broke up. I'm not stupid, you wanted him and you didn't wait five minutes after we broke up to get him, if you even bothered waiting in the first place. And you won't wait this time either. Got a date tonight?

Sebastian glares at his phone as he pulls open his briefcase trying to keep from grinding his teeth down to nubs. He makes sure he's got everything he needs in case his step father asks to see anything, because Lane's a hard ass and will grill him over the entire brief. When that's done he picks up his phone and quickly thumbs out a reply.

To Blaine: It's dinner and it's about business, not that that will make much difference to you, Crazy.

Blaine's response is equally quick and stinging.

From Blaine: Of course, and Andre will be there and when he comes on to you this time you won't have to hide anything. Have fun. Don't catch anything.

To Blaine: You know what, here's a thought. If you don't want me to sleep with someone don't break up with me just because you imagine I want to sleep with them, ergo I must be. Who fucking cares if I want to fuck him? The point is I don't. I have to go. I'm calling you later and you're picking up your damn phone.

When a whole minute goes by without some snappy retort Sebastian gets the message without it being sent. Don't count on it.

That makes him mad enough to want to schedule a flight back to New York and beat his boyfriend, fuck ex boyfriend, senseless but that's really a laugh because ha! They never make it past a shove before they're fucking each other's brains out like they've only got a night to do it.

Which under the circumstances doesn't sound half bad but he's interning and very determined to make an incredible impression at his step fathers firm. Which means he can't flake on the job now that Blaine has decided he actually can't handle a summer with an ocean between them without losing his god damn mind.

Sebastian curses and sets about searching for his dinner jacket, wondering to himself why he puts up with this stupidity. This right here is the number one reason he doesn't do exclusive relationships. They're so much more work than they're even worth and everything would be so much easier if everyone got over themselves and admitted that wedding rings and titles didn't stop them from imagining boning the hot guy making eyes at them from across the bar, or their celebrity crush. For most people it doesn't even stop them from actually going through with it. He's got a step mother who used to be his dads secretary to prove it.

So sometimes he gets a little flirtatious. So he likes to go out and have a good time. So what! He's not a fucking liar and when he makes a promise he keeps it and he'd promised Blaine exclusivity. All he wants really is the benefit of acknowledgement for all his efforts. Fuck, if Blaine is going to carry on thinking he cheats every chance he gets he might as well get the pleasure while he's at it and do the damn crime.

And that's when his phone rings. He knows it's Andre, because mad as he is he knows Blaine is right and he knows how flirting works and they definitely do plenty of that. He'll want to ask about going to some club after the dinner and they'll get smashed and he'll get handsy and hopeful that this time maybe Sebastian won't say no. Well, this time he doesn't have to if he doesn't want. Blaine made sure of that.

"Look Andre," Sebastian says as he snaps up the phone. "I can't talk right now. I got to get ready so can we just talk at dinner?"

"Who's Andre?" A familiar voice asks and Sebastian sighs in relief.

"Karofsky? Sorry I thought you were-"

"The guy Blaine thinks you're messing with?" Sebastian scowls. If Dave knows it's only because Kurt knows and Kurt knowing his perceived failings as a partner is never not going to get in his craw.

"Tell your boyfriend to stay out of my business, Dave. Aren't you worried about the amount of time your man spends talking to his ex? Isn't that sort of a warning sign?" He asks as he continues dashing around his apartment, getting ready.

Sebastian only wishes that little dig would hold any sting for Dave because the smug asshole has one of the most stable relationships he's ever seen. It makes him sick how perfect he and Kurt are with each other. How can they even stand themselves? Dave can leave the apartment whistling while Kurt and Blaine have fucking sleepovers, but catch Sebastian trying to work around someone good looking and Blaine's convinced he's having rabid office sex.

"They're best friends, they talk. He's just worried about him that's all. Kurt cares about you guys." At that Sebastian laughs outright.

"David, this is me you're talking to remember? I spent a year of my life trying to steal his boyfriend and another year running around on him once I got him. I'm pretty sure there are slugs Kurt cares about more than me." Dave laughs with him and Sebastian surprisingly feels some of his tension easing.

It's not that he and Dave have any great friendship between them, their only connection is the men they both happen to be in love with, but Dave is surprisingly easy to talk to and nonjudgmental. It might be the whole psychology major thing, and his desire to become a counselor for troubled teenagers but he's awfully good at remaining calm amidst their unusual little groups brand of crazy.

"But you don't anymore, and you make him happy so that makes Kurt happy. He cares about that," Dave says and Sebastian rolls his eyes because St. Kurt just would.

"Yeah well, you can assure my dear friend Kurt that Blaine and I are fine" he replies with a sneer. "And then you can tell me why you called because I know it's not about Andre."

"You're right. I've got a favor to ask you," Dave admits.

"Intriguing," Sebastian murmurs examining his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"Kurt lost the model he-" Dave trails off as almost immediately Sebastian starts laughing.

"Oh my God Karofsky you can't seriously be asking me what I think-"

"Come on Smythe it would mean a lot to him!"

"Exactly."

"Are you two ever going to stop fighting over who has the bigger cock?"

"That's not still in debate is it?"

"He can't do it without you."

"Which is truly delightful to hear and I promise I only get a little enjoyment out of telling you this, but I have a lot on my plate Dave. I don't have time to-"

"His show is in two weeks. Blaine's already bought a ticket," Dave says. "Which means that in two weeks you could have a chance to see him and convince him you're not a complete jackass instead of waiting until summers end when he might have decided to give someone else a shot and actually mean it when he says he's done with you."

Sebastian pauses, the smile sliding off his face. He has never really worried about Blaine finding someone else, Blaine cheating, Blaine deciding to 'give someone else a shot'. Blaine has only ever been in two relationships and each one he has fallen hard, fast, and he holds on until absolutely forced to pry his fingers loose. Blaine is ridiculously sexy, guys come on to him but he's also ridiculously steadfast in his morals (Sebastian should know) so he never worries. But Dave said that like he knew something.

"What do you mean?" He asks, feeling an unfamiliar twisting in his gut.

"Kurt keeps asking about some guy in his road crew, that's all. And it may not mean anything but-"

"Bullshit. I thought you just said Kurt knows I make Blaine happy and that's all he cares about. Now you're telling me he's pushing Blaine towards some loser with a monkey wrench. Who the hell is this guy?" Sebastian demands to know pacing the bathroom floor.

"Just some guy. Calm down Smythe, you know Blaine wouldn't cheat on you."

"We're not dating, Dave" Sebastian practically snarls. "It wouldn't be cheating."

Shit. Okay so maybe he's a little fed up with some of Blaine's insecurities but he has no intention of actually giving up on the relationship or letting some faceless stranger in a road crew for Christ's sake have a single piece of something very much his. Blaine's desire, Blaine's crazy, Blaine; all of him is his. He can no longer afford to wait until he can make it to New York to bring Blaine around to his way of thinking he thinks.

There's a lot, he realizes, that he can no longer afford to wait around to do.

"Don't think I don't know you brought up this 'road crew' guy on purpose" he says because Dave might have won, but he's not stupid. The guy probably doesn't even exist but Sebastian can't take that chance.

"I'm helping you, Smythe" Sebastian hears Dave chuckle. "You'd have done it anyway but this saves us time."

Sebastian makes a noncommittal noise and promises to call Kurt in the morning before he and Dave say their goodbyes. He checks his appearance one more time and is just reaching for his keys when his phone rings again. He checks the name this time before answering.

"Andre. I'm glad you called. It gives me a chance to tell you to stop calling me." The other man sputters and Sebastian continues on blithely as he grabs his keys and locks up. "I know, I know I flirted, I let you think something could happen and gave you exactly what you wanted so I'm a terrible person. Hate me, I'm an ogar. But let's keep it professional from now on. You call me about work and talk about me behind my back with the guys if you need to, but you bring your A game to the office or I wipe the floor with you and kick you the hell out of my way. Sound good?"

"Sebastian where is this coming from? I-"

"You're not what I want. That's all you need to know. I can't afford not to be clear on that anymore. It isn't personal. Get over me, or don't, just don't make trouble for me either way. Fair enough warning?"

Sebastian hangs up with conviction. Maybe he could have been kinder to Andre but he doesn't see a point. Andre's not a child, he knows exactly what game he's playing chasing after a guy he knows is attached. Sebastian never had any intention of letting him win but he's done playing now. The stakes are too high.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_**Joe's Pub presents 2HM.**_  
><em>Playing this Saturday night 7:00<em>  
><em>Set list: of the natural kind, 2. Reveal, 3. Quietly, and Bones, we don't talk about, 6. Skinny love, 7. Rain Water, 8. Better Introduction, 9. Perfect love,10. Flowers for a Ghost.<em>

It's hot and bright underneath the bright lights of the stage, and Blaine blinks the sweat from his eyes as he gazes out over the audience whose faces are cast in shadow. He can't quite make out complete features but certain details stick out from those peering up at him from the bar. The turn of a lip as it curves into a smile, the bright flash of teeth in the quick flashes of lights, the white of eyes opened wide to drink in the brilliant special. He's lying if he denies he doesn't live for these moments. There's something about being under these lights, in front of these people, trading pieces of his soul for a moment at their ears. It's the best trade off in existence; the fastest way to change another life trading self for time and wrapping it up in rhyme.

He's tried explaining it to Sebastian a couple of times, but he never quite gets to a place of complete understanding. He likes to perform too, he also likes to win. For him those things are one in the same, but for Blaine. For Blaine performance is craft, it's energy, poetry, art, it's masterpiece and masterful therapy; simply everything. Sebastian says ( or used to say is now more accurate) he lights up on stage, and Blaine knows it's true. Something about music always sets him to burning within. Kurt says he shines and that's what attracts his audience and keeps them captivated.

It has been a good show. Denny and the other guys are pleased he can tell, and the crowd has seemed to love the new stuff they've mixed in with old favorites. It's not as upbeat as Denny would have liked and Travis still thinks they should have put Closer on the set list, but this crowd is eating up thier sadder ballads, happy to sit and soak in the sounds of lyrics carried along by soulful croons and pushed by an angry sigh. Blaine's petty sure the woman in the sparkly blue top at the bar has been close to tears most of the night and it's for people like her, like himself, that this means so much; because as he finishes up one of their newer songs Perfect Love, he knows it's as much hers as his.

_young boy, young girl_

_living in a perfect world with no perfect love_

_Wake up baby boy, sweet baby daydreamer_

_baby girl, your flights leaving town_

_nobody rushing to the gateway, there's no perfect ending_

_just someone you've left when it was wrong_

_Can't stop how he stirs you, loves and abhors you_

_A perfect disaster and perfectly yours, he's so perfect, love_

_Your perfect love. _

He finishes the last note of the song, drawn and low his eyes open but no longer seeing the faces in front of him, but another's. Someone far away and too much missed. Travis says his misery is his own making, he thinks about that as the other man's fingers fly across the piano keys and the crowd cheers at the familiar melody as they sweep right into their last song. He sings, still seeing that face, still feeling everything as if it happened only minutes ago instead of days. Perhaps it's true, he was the one who broke things off after all. He was the one who told Sebastian he was free to do whatever he wanted and not to come back this time. And he means it. It has to be. God he loves him something unholy but that doesn't mean they work, that doesn't make it right. If he has learned anything by now it's _that _bitter truth.

He can't keep moving in the same broken patterns, and it hurts too much to always have to wonder and never to really know if the man he loves still loves him the way he did when they were eighteen and for three beautiful minutes he was the only one in his world and that was exactly the way Sebastian wanted it to be. Maybe Blaine makes up more trouble in his own head than he needs to. If he's really honest he can admit he's not a hundred percent certain Sebastian ever strays while they're together. He is however a hundred percent certain that Sebastian does not understand (or even care to) what it does to him when he looks, when he plays, when it's obvious to everyone most espicially Blaine that he _thinks _about it. So yes, it hurts, he's tired of hurting and he has so much of his life left to live and love to give to someone else, someone _deserving._

_She took a plane to somewhere out in space, to start a life and maybe change the world. You see I never meant for you to have to crawl. I never meant to let you go at all. Oh no. Oh no. Don't ever say goodbye._

The problem was the whole 'someone else' bit. Because when he thinks about what he really wants, there's one face. He doesn't want a new love, just a new start and a new way of relating to each other. He wants the same sly grin, the same nose tickling his ear as they lay and watch the same old movies. He wants the same jokes and the same complaints, the same rush of warmth because the same man is saying the same I love you by wrapping him up tight and being there when he doesn't want to be.

_Wonder what you do, and where it is you stay. These questions like a whirlwind they carry me away. Like who will bring me flowers when it's over? And who will give me comfort when it's cold? Who will I belong to when the day just won't give in? And who will tell me how it all ends, and how it all begins? Oh, oh love. Don't ever say goodbye. _

_I'm only human. _

He knew what was smart. He knew what he should want, what he should do when Sebastian no doubt kept his word and called later. He knew what he should feel like doing, and he knew that he didn't for the same reasons why he would.

_I'm only human._

"Great show," Dave says wrapping him up in a loose hug and pounding his back once before letting go and making room at the bar for Blaine. It's a tradition that Kurt started, they always meet Blaine and Sebastian at Rileys Lounge after one of his shows for a celebratory drink. Sometimes Blaine is joined by other members of the band, sometimes Kurt and Dave have other friends with them, and sometimes it's just the four of them. Lately since both their partners are on the other side of an ocean it has been usually just Dave and Blaine.

It's not awkward, though Blaine does remember a fleeting feeling of surprise the first show with Kurt in France (Sebastian having already left the week before) when he'd wrapped up for the night and got half way home before he got a text from Dave asking where the hell he was. He'd been tired and already missing Sebastian he remembered, and momentarily surprised that even with their boyfriends gone Dave would want to meet up for drinks. Then he'd told the driver to turn around and thought nothing else about it because as Kurt had said later, 'of course he did. Why wouldn't he?'

Tonight Indy's with them and Travis has trailed along with Blaine, hyped up and not quite yet ready to call it a night.

"Good, but kind of melancholy though. If it weren't so amusing watching all those women fall for your bullshit I'd have slit my wrists," Indy comments dryly (in typical Indy fashion), his pointed nose dipping into his glass to sniff its contents like he's checking to see if it's spoiled. "What a depressing playlist man. Who died?"

Travis, who is always clean cut except for his startlingly long hair, eyes Indy's massive nest of dreadlocks with curiosity before grunting and gesturing to Blaine. "This guys 'over share o meter'."

"I don't bullshit," Blaine insists with a grin nodding a thanks when Dave hands him his usual, coke with a bit of rum. He mostly likes the way it kicks when it goes down. "I emote. People like it when they can tell you really care about what you're singing..."

"It's art" the three other voices at the table chime in and Blaine rolls his eyes at them.

"Did you see that broad in the blue top?" Indy asks and Dave starts to laugh as Travis looks questioningly to the dark skinned man who grins back at him and promptly continues. "Sitting at the bar, blue top that might have been made from a disco ball? I thought she was going to climb on stage and try and suck him off or some shit-"

"Okay." Blaine interjects, trying to stop the other man before he gets going because he's had enough experience with Dave's friend to know once he gets started there's no real stopping him. "It wasn't that-"

"Oh come on Blaine, did you see when she stuck her hands up and reached for you?" Dave snickers, and next to him Indy does some sort of imitation: face screwed up in mock tears grasping wildly at the air for something unreachable and whimpering. Travis bursts into loud laughter and Blaine can feel himself flushing as people around the bar turn in their direction.

"Really?" he asks eyeing Indy's leather jacket and suspenders. "You're sitting there looking like a weird cross between Indiana jones and Bruno Mars throwing out words like broad, and you really want to talk about someone else?"

"Oooh look at that" Indy crows, big white teeth flashing in his full grin. "Isn't it cute? Blaine's pissed. And we all know he only really gets pissed when he's not getting dick. Are you and Seb on your twelfth round of divorce or...?

"Alright, leave him alone" Dave interjects before Blaine can snap back at the other man, laying a placating hand on his arm. Blaine's tempted to shrug it off and come up with some biting retort for Indy but he doesn't really feel like fighting. He smiles gratefully at Dave when he says, " as the guy who can't keep a girl for more than a week I really don't think you should talk."

"Well then as someone happily married I will," Travis pipes up waving the hand with his wedding band on it. "It's miserable when you and Sebastian pretend like you aren't fucking nuts about each other. For all of us I mean. 'Cause this guy likes to sing about his feelings and I don't know about any of you but there's only so many times you can listen to Adele on repeat before getting shot. Just on principle."

"And as the guy you pay to sing in this little traveling circus," Blaine advises not unkindly. "I'd suggest you learn to love it cause it will be around for a while. I'm transitioning."

"Ah yes," Indy murmurs, grin ever widening. "The caterpillar wraps himself up in a cocoon of silk denial and Adele lyrics so that when he finally eats his way out he will be an hideous butthurtfly and spread bitter tears throughout the land. My favorite love story."

"My favorite story was the one where you stopped talking," Blaine quips and beside him Dave chuckles.

"Fairytales," Indy waves away his words and points one long elegant finger at him. "Your problem my man is that you live in a dream world. Better to deal in reality than..."

Indy trails off when Blaine jumps, startled by the vibration of his phone in his pocket. He fumbles for it, spilling a bit of his drink, but finally manages to pull it out. He has several incoming messages from Sebastian.

"That's from him right?" Indy asks and when Blaine nods the other man instantly heaves a heavy sigh. "Don't even read it. Make him work for it."

"Weren't you the one just talking about dealing in reality?" Dave asks but Blaine tunes him out, staring instead at the text in his hand, so he misses Indy's response.

_From Sebastian: Congratulations on your show. You were amazing. I know because I made Kurt show me some of the videos Dave sent. For someone whose ass I'm saving he really wanted to be stingy with them. I know you're probably out and tired so I'm not going to call tonight. I won't call you at all anymore..._

It shouldn't but Blaine's heart lurches painfully in his chest before he reads on.

..._ because I know you need space. So you can have it, but if even a tiny part of you was wondering, I wanted to let you know that you still have me. I'll see you sooner than you think. G'night. I love you. _

Blaine is quiet for the rest of the night, and his friends let him be without awkwardness or questions. They might give him a hard time, especially Indy, but they all have known him long enough to know when it's okay to poke at the wound and when it's not. Dave is not majoring in psychology because he's particularly perceptive or that good at problem solving. He just knows exactly how bad it can get when no one tries, so god help all the troubled teenagers in his future but he's it. He'll try if you let him.

So twelve years ago if you'd told him he'd be catching a cab with Blaine Anderson and trying to figure out if a good round of ex bashing was in order or if he'd be better serve bracing to catch him before he tries to throw himself in oncoming traffic- well, he'd have punched you. He'd been an angry kid twelve years ago, and nothing used to make him angrier than the man hunched beside him staring forlornly out the window as New York streets passed them by.

"Did you ever worry about Kurt and I?" Blaine asks suddenly and Dave blinks, trying to figure out where the other mans thoughts are going.

"What do you mean?" He asks warily and Blaine rolls his neck until he's looking at Dave, listless and so over the top pathetic he has to fight not to roll his eyes.

"Me and Kurt" Blaine says like it's obvious. "You never worried we'd get back together? Not even once?"

Dave looks at the man beside him with shirt unbuttoned, his dark hair damp and curls fly away, as completely alien from the polished ken doll he'd known when he was seventeen as it is possible to be. He's not sure how to answer that, or even if he wants to because he'd be lying if he said he wasn't annoyed at Blaine's behavior, the line of questioning, and the whole damn ordeal.

"Kurt doesn't cheat," he says in answer and Blaine laughs like Dave has said something funny.

"No he doesn't. He doesn't even think about it. I did, think about it, once; but it was a long time ago," Blaine sighs and lets himself slide further down the seat, which places his cheek right on Dave's bicep. Dave waits a moment, but when the other man doesn't move he gives in and sinks down in his seat so that they are bracing each other shoulder to shoulder.

"Kurt knows you never did anything with Sebastian when you were with him, Blaine."

"Doesn't matter. It's the thought right? We were both talking about forever and thinking of other people. Can't say I'm surprised it didn't work." It's silent for a while, Blaine breathing deep and thinking Dave waiting and watching him out of the corner of his eye. He wishes Kurt were here, he's so much better at handling the emotional stuff, at weathering Blaine's strange moods. Dave's not an expert yet, he hasn't got the doctorate, but he thinks that as much as Blaine might have needed someone like Sebastian to come along unwind him, it's wrong for the other man to have left him unraveling.

"You know I used to hate you, especially after he and I broke up and I thought... well I thought that things could still work out then. Kurt said you were 'just friends', only l I know Kurt and here we are aren't we," Blaine chuckles darkly. "It was dumb. I should have realized what I really hated so much was myself, because I'd had this beautiful perfect thing and I completely fucked it up. He said it was the long distance but I knew the truth. If I hadn't ever thought about Seb, if I hadn't ever wondered what it would be like for a second, then we'd have worked and everything would still be perfect."

"When did you stop hating me?" Dave asks, curious because it has been years and yes there weird friendship hasn't always been easy but thinking back he can't point to a single time when things changed. They've just revolved around each other, Kurt their center point, making nice because both of them cared about the man in the middle.

"When I stopped talking to Seb and tried to stop thinking about him" Blaine admits with a sad little grin. "I went up to visit Kurt and there was that tacky dog you won at that street carnival? He'd look at it for a second every now and then, and just the way he looked. It hit me then that none of it mattered. I could ignore Sebastian if I wanted but it wouldn't change anything. We were in different places wanting different people."

Dave doesn't need Blaine to tell him to guess that Blaine let himself want after that, he knows. He was there. He still remembers awkward outings with Kurt after Blaine's visit because even thought they were just friends, he'd wanted so much more. He'd hated that Kurt still talked to Blaine, that Blaine was coming up to spend a weekend on campus with him for god's sake when normal people could barely even talk to their exes. He'd been a bit of a pill that week, distant, not calling Kurt to meet up or study like they'd fallen into the habit; living in the same city but suddenly strangers to each other.

Kurt had finally wrangled a quick coffee date out of him the weekend after Blaine's visit and he'd been tense, passive aggressive and visibly irritated with him. Dave can't help but smile at the memory, because even though it had all been a nightmare then, now he can laugh at himself. He has learned by trial and error that Kurt hates being avoided more than he hates when Dave tries to avoid his problems.

"I did," Dave says, answering the question he'd let Blaine assume was already answered before. Blaine stares at him questioningly and Dave shrugs. "I did worry about you and him in the beginning. All the time, I mean I knew I could make him happy and I really wanted the chance but you can't blame a guy for not wanting to compete when he looked at you like-"

"The sun shone out my ass," Blaine fills in with a laugh. "It's how Seb describes it."

"God it was sickening," Dave grunts and Blaine just laughs harder. "And it used to eat me having you around and wondering if he wasn't going to wake up one day and realize he wanted something else and he could have it again if he just dumped my sorry ass. Yeah, I hated you Anderson. "

"And...?" Blaine prompts, expectantly. "When did you stop hating me?"

"When Kurt backed me into the refrigerator one night and told me to stop ruining a perfectly good love story and to grow a brain cell."

"He didn't!"

"He did," Dave remembers with a smile. "He gave me a list of things I was allowed to think in the interim, and warned me I'd miss out on the best thing that ever happened to either of us if I didn't comply." At the very top of that list had been I love you (followed by his full name in parenthesis to drive the point home) followed by the bullet point 'nothing is going to change that'. Dave still has that paper tucked away in a closet somewhere.

"You're lucky, Dave" Blaine murmurs softly, back to staring out the window sadly.

"So are you," Dave says turning towards his own window, sensing the conversation winding down. "Don't call him, even if you want to. Take it or leave it, but if you want my advice I think you need to take a step back and really get a good look at what you have. If you wan't it, if you want him, then well..."

"Stop ruining a perfectly good love story?"

"Right," Dave nods Blaine chuckles in the dark.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_Monday morning 2 am Paris France._

He's not much of a romantic, and he wouldn't necessarily call himself an artist. He's good with his hands but he'd prefer to use them for mapping out the lines of another body than for sculpting or building. There's an artistry to building up an orgasm, he'd sit and tell you all about it, but he knows that's not what Blaine has in mind when he gets that manic little glint in his eye and wants to talk about art.

He likes music and he likes poetry, likes them best when they're expressed in sighs and groans. Too many words just get in the way. Isn't there something to be said for what can be expressed in one guttural cry that can't be expressed with the same potency in a hundred words? All of the adjectives in the world can never touch that strangled sound a body makes- Blaine makes- when it's strings are plucked just right. He'll never feel anything as profoundly as he feels the thud of another heart over his ribcage.

Sometimes, like now, Sebastian will wake up in the morning (when it might as well still be night) hungry. Not for food, not for water but for the scratch of cotton sheets against his knees, the touch of skin beneath his palms and life's best and most natural music. When he feels good, when he's pleasured, he feels connected to something, centered and solid in an otherwise uneven and often shapeless world. Sex is real, sex is unreal and sex is art.

But more often than not he abstains. He does not take pleasure and seek solace. He curtails his fun, his exercise and his muse; for the sake of exclusivity. They are exclusive and Blaine's studying late, home for Christmas, on tour, an ocean away- whatever the case may be. It's frustrating as hell and he's got a tally sheet of how many times he's had the conversation with himself where he asks himself why he's putting himself through pointless torture and trying to be everything he's not.

He's not a romantic. He's not steady, not dependable, not exclusive and not looking to get married ever and adopt babies and paint picket fences. He's twenty eight, gorgeous and living in Paris for the time being. He should be having the time of his life. Instead it's two in the morning, he's at home in his boxers, very much alone and staring intently at the phone he can't use to call the person he'd promised space, in hopes that they themselves will call and put them both out of their misery.

It's a game he plays with himself. When they were in New York together Blaine would call him every morning, the very first thing he did when he got up. When he's mad, when they're 'on a break' of course he doesn't, but it's always the first thing to return when they're on their way back to each other.

So it's a game with unspeakably high stakes he's playing. He's laying on his bed, tv droning on in the background, hand resting over heart idly counting beats, watching his phone.

**************

_Monday Morning 10 am New York_

Dave hates the subway ride from his apartment to NYU the same way he hates waiting in line at fast food restaurants and the stretch of time before a big game. He's never been good at pointless waiting, there's something about useless inaction that makes him itchy. He gets so jumpy, something cold squirms around in his belly until he caves and makes something happen.

With no job, bills mounting up, and an angry land lord hounding him about last months rent, he's got a major case of the Dave Karofsky brand of stomach flue. He'd put out that add last week and gotten several replies but none of the responders have been willing to sign on a month to month lease. Everyone is looking for something more permanent and he knows that Kurt is going to be mad enough as it is when he learns how he went over his head on this decision. He's not going to push his luck with that and force Kurt to share their space when he comes home in October.

He and Kurt got a place in East Village after they both graduated undergrad because they found a great deal on a one bedroom. It is still too tiny to brag about but at least it boasts a kitchen that isn't climbing into their bedroom and an actual living room space. It has been there space for a few years now, their home, and if they lose it because Kurt got an excellent opportunity and he had the audacity to take it?

Well that isn't going to happen, and Kurt isn't even going to think about canceling the end of his internship. Not if Dave can help it. Which he can. He just needs to find a damn roommate. He's thinking about that on his way back from his morning class.

When he gets off at his stop he's still thinking about his possible options, planning to check his email as soon as he gets in. When he gets to his building he's surprised to see a familiar face waiting nervously on the front steps. She's short- compared to him anyway- and her typically fly away blond hair has been cut into a pixie cut since he last saw her.

"Cindy?" He asks in surprise as he approaches. Her pale face brightens in a smile as she turns and recognizes him, grey eyes glinting with relieved delight.

"David!"

***************

_Monday morning somewhere past 4 am Paris France._

It's past ten in New York Sebastian thinks. That means Blaine has been up for at least two hours, has probably gone on his jog, eaten, showered until all the hot water was gone, brushed his teeth, fought with his hair and headed to work.

He groans and rolls over in his bed because it's pathetic that he should know Blaine's morning routine so thoroughly. He hasn't exactly avoided knowing little details about Blaine, dating as long as they have been it would be ridiculous if he tried but even still. Sebastian just doesn't care for the cliche and the mundane and having every part of someone's day memorized just stinks of romantic cliches. God he really hates those. It's them he avoids like the plague, not commitment itself. Kurt and Dave moved in together the first chance they got and every step they take seems to match and it's all so very cute and expected.

He and Blaine work differently because Sebastian works differently and he likes wide open spaces and the unexpected. They have their separate apartments for good reason. Even if one of them spends a good portion of the time collecting dust there's something comforting about knowing there's space if he needs it. Most of the time Blaine's okay with that until he rather irritatingly just isn't and storms off in a big childish snit that Sebastian toys over the idea of spanking him for. It's a nice idea but only just. Blaine would never let him. Well... maybe not never, Sebastian's pretty persuasive when he wants to be, but certainly not now.

Blaine isn't ready to forgive him yet- not that Sebastian actually did anything that needs forgiving- and he'd be madder about that if he weren't so past it all and ready to say or do anything if it means cooling the burn that has become a permanent part of his body. He wants his lover back, _needs_ him back. And it has to be Blaine because Sebastian Smythe doesn't lose like this, no one else will do, and he's really quite fantastically stuck on the fantasy of pushing Blaine against the nearest wall and fucking the anger out of both of them.

That and things just work better when he's with Blaine, they just do. Waking up, getting through school, getting through work it's all inexplicably better for having Blaine around. He supposes that's love. He's in love with Blaine and that thought somehow always manages to be a bit of a surprise for all the times the words have practically skipped past his lips post orgasm.

He says it on occasions like that, but feeling it this strongly always catches him off guard.

_7 AM Paris France._

Stephen Renard is a household name- if its inhabitants boast any claim to fashion sense that is- and there is always a swarm of young hopefuls vying for an exclusive internship spot in his company. The house of Stephen hasn't been around as long as Channel and Dior by any stretch of the imagination, and some purists in the business will pay you to listen to complaints against the young designers rather avante garde technique. That doesn't change the man's brilliance or deter any of the young men and women stumbling after him hoping to call some of that brilliance their very own.

Kurt is one such young man, one of four interns, but he is different from the others-to hear him tell it- because he doesn't need any of Stephen's brilliance to rub off on him-he's far too much of an individual for that. He has plenty of his own brilliance and doesn't hesitate to utilize it. Kurt is single minded, tenacious and exacting- meaning he knows exactly what he wants out of any given minute and you either get in line or get out of his way. Élise is another intern, Toulouse born and bred, and as his flatmate she's most familiar with what she fondly calls the Kurt Hummel war path.

"...of course it needs to be crew neck! Olive green double breasted blazer, white crew neck. These are basics. I'm not asking for Gaga summer wear here, Leroy!" Kurt is practically hissing into the phone and Élise cringes when she hears Leroy's name. She can't for the life of her figure out how out of hundreds of applicants a man whose idea of couture is washed out skinny jeans came to be chosen.

Kurt looks at her with wide eyes and mouths the words 'please shoot me'. She shakes her head and whispers "who allowed this moron to work?"

Kurt rolls his eyes heavenward and replies into the phone, "no. I'll do it. You get the shirts from Adrienne and have them back at the studio in one hour." There's a moment of pause as Leroy says something, and knowing Leroy it's something stupid, and then Kurt snaps, "because our hanger is coming in at ten, and if we don't have the shirts we can't make alterations and if we can't make alterations our hanger is going to look like a little kid playing dress up and I'll be very angry, that's why. Get them, or I promise I will hurt you and what's left of you can explain to Stephen how you manged to ruin his summer show and our collective careers single handed."

Élise bites back a smile and leaves Kurt to his conversation as the young woman behind the counter finishes their drink orders. They are constantly on the go for Stephen and sometimes it seems as if there isn't a spare moment to think. None of it would be possible without the energizing nectar of coffee, and Kurt particularly is frightening without his morning brew.

She pays the barista and turns just as Kurt finishes his call and heaves an aggravated sigh, almost as if they had planned it.

"Votre café, chérie" she says with a grin, offering him the steaming paper cup.

"Oh mon héros," Kurt replies in flawlessly accented french accepting the drink gratefully. Élise still doesn't buy that he hasn't spent more time in her fair country than that required for this internship. "Merci beaucoup."

"Is Leroy confused again?" She asks as they walk towards the doors and Kurt grimaces.

"As always, though what is so confusing about moving a pile of clothing from one building to another escapes me" Kurt scoffs and Élise giggles. As they're exiting a man at the table nearest the door tries to catch her attention. She's used to this, not because she's as thin or pretty as the models they clothe, but because she dresses like Kurt- like the entire world is her catwalk and you're lucky that you get a seat in the audience. She knows she's eye catching, she wouldn't have it any other way, but this man simply won't do.

She shakes her head as they walk out, her strawberry blond hair tickling her cheeks in the slight breeze.

"Breaking hearts already are we?" Kurt quips. "It's not even eight yet."

"He was wearing stripes."

"So? Stripes are in."

"Not those stripes" she insists with another giggle and Kurt cranes his neck to peer back through the windows of the little cafe` they've just departed where he sees the slender man in a horribly cut shirt watching them still. He shudders and Élise laughs. She and Kurt are so alike when it comes to their priorities. It's not that their shallow, it's just that both of them believe in putting their best foot forward and can't understand people who don't. That's not the only thing she and Kurt agree on but they don't agree on everything either. That hasn't done anything to deter their growing friendship and both regard it as special because their business is cutthroat and true friends are few and far between.

"You've spoiled me, Hummel" She teases him as they reach her car. It's a silver coupé cabriolet, small and sporty like her and she's rather intensely proud of it as it has taken her quite a few years to save up for it. "I'm saving myself for some dashing American boy."

"Oh god, honey don't" Kurt says as he opens her car door for her. "American boys are cave trolls, and they smell like Axe." Élise knows Kurt's just kidding but he's kind of putting a pin in her balloon anyway. All the guys she knows are morons, all of them the same, and all the interesting ones with goals and good jobs are well Kurt and he's gay.

"What about your David?" She asks as she gets into the drivers seat. "Surely Mr. Perfect isn't a cave troll."

"He still uses Axe," Kurt admits dryly and they both grimace.

"God, really?"

"Yes, I've bought him numerous alternatives but occasionally he forgets himself." Kurt says. "Believe me, Dave's come a long way from the slime pits. It's taken me years to brush him up to nearly perfect."

"You really think your boyfriend is nearly perfect?" Élise asks, and she's kidding along with him of course but there's awe in her voice nonetheless because she already knows the answer. She likes Kurt: his sauciness, his ambition, his kindness. She's heard more about his boyfriend David than she probably ever cared to but she lets him go on because it's obviously love and love does that to a person.

Love is in the soft tilt of Kurt's grin as he nods and chuckles, "nearly."

"I can't wait for Friday," she says honestly as they pull into early morning traffic. "I need to meet this paragon of virtue."

"And you will. Him, Blaine ,and you'll meet Sebastian today. Just to warn you, having all four of us together might be a train wreck."

"Not if you behave yourself. From what you told me it sounds like you like to goad poor Sebastian into-"

"Poor Sebastian my ass, Élise" Kurt interrupts her with a snort. "You'll see when we get to the studio. The guy's a real piece of work."

"You let him date your best friend," she points out and Kurt frowns at her simple logic.

"Well yeah, but that's because Blaine's a nutcase and actually falls for his smarmy meerat face and sleazeball charms."

"But if you really hated him as much as your pretend then-"

"Drive, Élise. You're swimming in some dangerous waters."

***********

_10:30 am New York, NY_

Cindy Laton has the unique ability to make any space her own without the appearance of any outward effort. She's a whirl wind, a mini hurricane of a personality and Dave doesn't have to be a close personal friend to know that. Dave got the job at Mainline securities just to help pay his way through school. Sales isn't really his thing but he can smile when people come in and spew the appropriate memorized spiel. Cindy used to be the receptionist there, she took his application the first day he spotted the now hiring sign and wandered in, so over the years she has become as familiar to him as his old sports jerseys, but he wouldn't say they're close.

So she really shouldn't look as comfortable as she does siting on his couch and sipping from the glass of water he offered her (Kurt's instilled in him some of the good manners his mother never quite could over the years). But she does, she seems unaffected by the oddity of finding herself in his living room for the first time.

"This is good water," she says and Dave doesn't respond to that because what the fuck.

"New York usually has terrible water" she goes on to say like everyone knows. "I hate it when it tastes briny."

"Oh yeah, me too." He actually really doesn't care but he figures it's the polite thing to say when a guest comments on your water. And because he doesn't really do useless waiting well he asks, "so how did you know where I live?"

"Are you kidding me David? I was Morgan's personal slave for six years" she says by way of explanation her lips pursing around their former bosses name. "Not a single piece of paperwork went in or out of that place without crossing my desk. I know where you all live, I could be really dangerous if I wanted to."

Dave smiles, something about Cindy's familiar humor making him more at ease despite the strangeness of having her there. She was one of the best parts about coming in to work every morning, always quick to laugh or share something from the office gossip pool.

"So where's the boyfriend?" She asks suddenly, setting down her cup and letting her eyes roam over the room. It's not as neat as it could be (Dave's had a lot of late nights in the library this week) but everything nevertheless looks as if it belongs there. Everything matches, everything compliments, and therefore there are a hundred and one things to remind him of Kurt. The throw pillows on the couch, the candle set and coasters on the coffee table, the iron figurine of a wolfhound over on the bookcase.

"He took that internship I was telling you about. He and Stephen Renard are in France for the year." Perhaps some of the pride Dave feels leaks into his voice because Cindy's face blooms into a smile and she puffs out a sweet little sigh.

"_The _Stephen Renard?" Dave nods and she shakes her head in disbelief. "Wow. Well tell him congratulations when you hear from him. That's intense. I'd love to do something like that but talk about high pressure. I mean Stephen Renard and it's fashion week and all? I think I'd crack."

"Yeah well, Kurt's pretty good with high pressure" Dave assures her, thinking fondly of all the ways Kurt has proved over the years that he's not a man easily broken. "I'm actually flying out there at the end of the week for Stephens big final show. He's featuring a few of Kurt's designs which I guess is a pretty big deal."

"You guess?" Cindy gaffs. "Would you guess it was a big deal if Payton Manning asked you to pitch in for him for a few games?"

"That's almost exactly how Kurt described it."

"Cause it's a pretty _huge_ deal, David." Cindy bounces in her seat, her excitement over Kurt's success palpable. "I can't believe I know someone who actually works with Stephen Renard. Well know his boyfriend anyway, it's close enough. He's so damn lucky. Strike lucky, clearly you're dating a genius."

"Yeah," Dave can't help it. Her excitement is catching. He's smiling for no reason now, wishing Kurt were here so he could hear and see how amazing this virtual stranger thinks he is and how proud of him _he_ is. "He certainly thinks so." Cindy makes a tutting sound and arches one pale brow at him as she scolds.

"Don't act like you don't think so too. I've never even met Boyfriend and I can tell you what his favorite places to eat are, how much he spent redecorating your kitchen- which is fantastic by the way- and just what the land lord would and wouldn't let him change. And your land lords name," she adds as an afterthought grinning when Dave's face flushes.

"Do I really talk about him that much?"

"I call it Kurt vomit. It's a hundred percent adorable and disgusting all at once."

"Yeah..." Dave's once again at a loss for words. He can't exactly apologize for loving his life and the man he's lucky enough to be sharing it with. He wasn't aware he talked about it so much but whatever. He's not ashamed.

"Is that him?" Cindy asks springing up from her seat and approaching the book case where several photo frames are artful arranged. There are more photos hung on the surrounding walls. Mostly pictures of them over the years, family, other friends, a few tasteful abstract pieces that Kurt thought gave the room polish. She picks up a picture of him and Kurt in big bulky Christmas sweaters, faces flushed and noses red with cold as they cling to each other and grin for the camera. "He's adorable."

"Yeah, that's a few years old though. We were back home for Christmas."

"That, David, is a serious case of hideous sweater." Cindy laughs pointing to the fat little elf on the sweater Dave's wearing in the picture."Boyfriend's isn't as bad but it still wouldn't make it out of my closet."

"My mom has an ugly Christmas sweater party every year, I had to bribe Kurt to get him in his."

"Bribery eh?" Cindy practically leers and Dave feels his face pinking again. He doesn't know why, he's been far from a blushing virgin for years. It's just that the whole thing is so strange, so surreal. Why was Cindy here in his house going through his photos?

"So not that it isn't great to see you..." Cause it was. He liked her, she was funny and truth be told it got lonely at home without Kurt around. "But why are you hear Cindy?"

Dave halfway thinks she'll deflect the question but she surprises him.

"Because I don't have anywhere else to go. Morgan fired me, I couldn't stay where I was living because..." Cindy's the one blushing now. She darts a glance at him and takes a fortifying breath before pushing on. "Well it serves me right, sleeping with a jerk like Morgan, especially when he's the boss. So I've kind of been drifting since then and my friends have been great but I think I've about out stayed my welcome. None of them will say it of course but I don't want to be a burden on anyone."

Cindy looks really uncomfortable now and Dave takes pity on her because he's sort of the same way. He hates relying on other people, values his Independence and believes in handling his own problems. But if life- if Kurt- has taught him anything, it's that no one can do it alone and some burdens are better shared.

"I'm sure they get it," he assures her. "Morgan's an asshole and he had no right to fire you. I'm telling you if you sued you could-"

"I don't want to sue, David" she interrupts him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I just want to get on with my life. Do the things I always wanted to do before Morgan and a hundred other distractions got in the way."

Cindy should sue. She'd been an exemplary worker and maybe it hadn't been smart to get involved with the boss but that was a two way road and the jackass had no right to treat her the way he'd treated her and bring their relational dysfunction into the work space. There were laws against that weren't there? He was sure there had to be something against calling one of your workers a cunt.

Dave was there the afternoon Cindy got fired, it was the same afternoon he'd quit.

Indy was right. Quitting his job in the middle of a job shortage hadn't been his smartest move but Dave has never regretted anything less. He'd done the right thing and that was more important than a comfortable salary. And that's a comforting thought because Dave's pretty sure he's about to do something equally stupid but nonetheless right.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

In which the plot thickens and writing Sebastian and Kurt together is possibly the best thing ever.

* * *

><p>Starting Secondhand Muse (or 2HM as they like to call themselves) had been Denny's idea. He and Blaine been floor mates (and later room mates) in undergrad and they'd connected over a mutual passion for music, and as these things tend to go they eventually roped a few other friends into it and before long they had the beginnings of a band.<p>

Blaine sings and writes lyrics, Denny writes music and plays guitar, Travis plays piano and Von plays the drums. Denny had grown up in his dads record shop right there in east village and he'd gotten Blaine a job there their freshman year. Denny's folks also live above the shop so Blaine and the rest of the band are pretty much familiar fixtures there. The shop is more home to him now than his apartment even is. It was from that same shop that they took their name, and it is at Secondhand Music that Blaine still works when he and the band are not on tour. 2HM is doing well for itself and Denny is pretty ecstatic that some big artists have begun initiating talks about having the band open for them.

It's four in the afternoon on a Monday, the shop is mostly empty, he's coming off the tailwind of an successful show and according to his phone all his favorite sports teams seem to be doing respectively well. He should be be happy, at the very least not absolutely miserable, but he is. The problem is he hadn't been able to sleep very well the night before, and upon waking this morning he'd become aware of a simple desire. He wanted to call Seb and hear his voice. He wanted to hear him mumble a good morning and hear him complain about early risers. It was such a simple need, so deceptively quiet that he'd brushed it off, gone about his day without giving it any more thought.

He gets what Dave was trying to tell him the other night in the cab, but it still hurts every time he thinks about that phone call and that voice whispering in the background belonging to a man who wants all too keenly to take from what is his, still hurts to know how much Sebastian enjoys that. He doesn't want to have to deal with that kind of pain, doesn't want to be this desperate and insecure for the rest of his life, and he doesn't want to be with somebody who considers it some great loss to move in with him.

He's not asking Sebastian to walk down the isle with him (god no _talking_ about getting married is enough to make Sebastian run for the hills) all he wants is to share their space and not have to dial any numbers in the morning if he wants to hear his voice. He's not asking for much, just more. More of each other, more of everything, because the longer they're together the more certain he becomes that Sebastian is everything and everywhere and all around and he just pretty much wants him all the time.

Which is why it's four here in New York and Blaine is sitting on the counter thinking about how it's ten in the morning in Paris and Sebastian is likely at work already and if he called he wouldn't have to talk to him but he could hear his voicemail.

He'd feel worse about being this pathetic if anyone but him knew how close he was to picking up the phone and doing just that. Blaine sighs and lets his head thunk back against the wall, becoming aware again of the music playing over the speakers and letting it wash over him.

_He put it on me, I put it on,_

_Like there was nothing wrong._

_It didn't fit,_

_It wasn't right._

_Wasn't just the size._

_They say you know,_

_When you know._

_I don't know._

As Blaine lets the words sink in a blond woman enters the shop, her hair and clothes damp from rain despite the umbrella she stops a second to wrestle closed. With bright yellow umbrella closed she approaches the counter, smiling tiredly as she clears her throat to get Blaine's attention.

_If it's not like the movies,_

_That's how it should be, yeah._

_When he's the one,_

_I'll come undone,_

_And my world will stop spinning_

_And that's just the beginning, yeah._

It's the sharp rapping of the woman's umbrella that snaps Blaine out of his stupor. She's tapping the wooden handle impatiently on the wood counter, her smile even more strained as she regards him with unveiled irritation.

"Hey eyebrows!" The woman demands impatiently. "Can I get some help here or..."

"Wha-uh yes. Yes! Of course," Blaine stumbles over his words and off the counter, smiling sheepishly at his customer. "Welcome to Secondhand Music. I'm Blaine, how can I help you?"

He extends his hand because there are certain manners he was raised with that he finds hard to shake, and Secondhand is known for its friendly quality service. The petite blond in front of him however doesn't seem all that impressed with it though as she shakes his offered hand all but once and briskly replies, "Cindy. I saw your sign and thought I'd make a quick stop. I need some help finding some music for a friend. Sort of a thank you gift? I'm really pressed for time so..."

"Of course," Blaine says leading her towards the stacks of albums off to the right. All of them are marked according to genre and alphabetized. "Do you have anything specific in mind?"

"Well I was hoping to get a few recommendations, but seeing how deep into that Perry song you just were I think I'll take my chances." Despite the bite to her words there's an amused glint in the woman's eyes, amusement Blaine suspects is largely at his expense, but it relaxes their sting nonetheless.

"Hey, I know she's not everyone's thing but don't knock Katty, she's got some amazing lyrics," Blaine says and Cindy snickers.

"So you're a fan I take it?"

"Since highschool."

"Unbelievable."

"So I've been told," Blaine chuckles, thinking Kurt is going to love hearing he ran into someone who appears to share his opinions on Blaine's top 40 obsession. "Speaking of which, someone brought in EMF's first album, mint condition, if your friend is in to classic pop-rock."

Blaine quickly finds the album under the E's and presents it to Cindy with a flourish. She regards it for a moment before shaking her head and Blaine puts it back, eying the rack for more of their newer stuff.

"So what happened with the boyfriend?" Blaine turns with another selection in hand as she asks and he pauses, caught off guard by the question.

"What? What makes-"

"Me think you're gay?You were sobbing over a Katty Perry song a second ago and that's a Jason Walker Album in your hands," Cindy sneers at him pushing past him to regard the shelf's contents for herself. "And are you deflecting because you don't want to tell me why you dumped him if you're just going to make an idiot of yourself crying about it, or because you don't want to admit you got dumped and you're wasting away like your life's a Twilight novel?"

"Try because you're a complete stranger and I can't see how my personal life is any of your business."

"Touchy. So he dumped you then?"

"No," Blaine snaps without thinking, irritated that he's letting a total stranger get under his skin. Outrageously nosy or no, she's still a customer. He gentles his tone. "I decided to end things. It's for the better. So give me an idea what your friend-"

"This is your 'better'?" This Cindy really doesn't seem interested in letting Blaine finish a sentence. "Sweetheart you break up with the king of douchbags in a long string of douchbags 'for the better' and you grin about it even though you're broke as fuck and you're out on your ass. You don't break up with someone you can't perform basic functions like hearing without, for 'the better'."

He could too perform basic functions! Sure today wasn't his best day and he was irritatingly on the needy side but it wasn't like he _needed_ Sebastian, not really. He'd be damned before he needed someone that badly who couldn't so much as tone it down when the latest hot piece of ass waltzed by.

"Look, mam I'm really not comfortable discussing my personal life with someone I don't know so how about we just focus on getting that gift for your friend?"

"Ugh. Do I look like a mam? Cindy asks with an exasperated puff of breath. She cocks her head and considers him seriously for a moment before she asks, "and are you sure we don't know each other from somewhere? You look so familiar and it's just one more thing bugging me."

"It's possible if you're from around here, I live pretty close and I've worked here for-"

"No, no I'm not from this neighborhood." Cindy waves her hand dismissively as she cuts him off again, biting her lip as her gaze gets all the more intense the harder she concentrates on him. Blaine can't help but shift a little nervously under such intense scrutiny. It's almost a relief when she snaps her fingers and then practically jabs a hole in his chest gesturing excitedly at him.

"Oh my god you're him!"

"Yeah, I'm in a band if that's-"

"No, shut up. You're him, the guy in all the pictures."

"Excuse me?"

"You know my friend Dave" she says like he's the one not making any sense and with a laugh and a sigh she adds, "tell me you do. Otherwise I hate to break it to you but you've got a twin roaming around and he's in at least four of the picture's in Dave's apartment."

Dave is the friend she's shopping for, Kurt's Dave Blaine realizes. With things now making more sense Blaine smiles again and cheerfully asks, "You know, Dave? That's fantastic."

"We worked together," Cindy tells him something a little pained crossing her features but it quickly passes. "And now that I think about it he did mention a Blaine in a few of his stories. Small world isn't it?"

"This is crazy, Dave and I have known each other since high school. I'm best friends with his-" Blaine doesn't get to finish as a loud jangling ring tone sounds from inside Cindy's purse and she leaps to answer it, struggling with purse and umbrella as she fumbles to reach her phone.

She doesn't reach it in time to answer the call but whatever she sees on the screen has her frowning and rubbing her temples like she has a headache.

"Shit," she curses dropping the phone back into her over sized purse. Blaine spots the edge of what appears to be a sketchpad sticking out, preventing the bag from closing. "I have to go and I really wanted to have a gift and dinner waiting when he got home. No chance that I can get something delivered is there?"

Blaine opens his mouth to respond but nothing comes out. His mind is racing to make sense of what he just heard. She and Dave are having dinner? That's not odd, especially if they're old work buddies or something. What's odd is the 'waiting when he gets home' part.

"Uh no, not normally no," he finally manages to get out. "Excuse me I don't mean to pry but-"

"And I don't mean to be an asshole but I really don't have time to shoot the breeze," Cindy's turning away from him before she can finish saying. "Thanks for the help. I'll stop in some other time."

And as quickly as she'd arrived, Cindy is gone. Blaine stares after her agape, unsure of what to do. Why does Dave have a woman staying at the apartment with him? Dave hadn't mentioned anything of the sort and neither had Kurt. Dave of course wasn't obligated to report his every action to his friends but he certainly would have talked it over with Kurt if he had a friend coming into town and as much as Blaine and Kurt talk, he just can't get past the thought that if it were something innocent Kurt would know and would have casually mentioned it before now.

He's not sure what exactly he thinks of the situation, some woman cooking dinner for Dave and out buying him gifts certainly looks strange but Dave is most definitely gay so at least it's not cheating. Whatever is going on, it's strange. That's for sure.

He debates for a moment about leaving it alone, but in the end he knows that if Dave is in some sort of trouble or unfathomable as it is _actually cheating_ and Kurt learns that Blaine knew something and kept it quiet? Well, they've all become friends of a sort, but he's Kurt's friend first and foremost.

Still, he wants to tread lightly. Dave's a friend too and whatever is going on actually could be completely innocent and it's stupid to cause trouble for him with Kurt over nothing, if it is nothing.

That's his reasoning, and it's a good reason as any to call Sebastian, the perfect reason. Not like simply wanting to.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Sebastian's done some modeling before, but he's never seriously considered it for a career because the power that comes with being young and beautiful is so fleeting. Blaine's wrong, Sebastian can look forward, he does plan and he often considers the future with care and great attention. No one is young forever and models are young and hot for only so long. He wants respect and his own fortune to cushion all his trust fund money yes, but he wants to enjoy the comforts of success and notoriety until he's dead once he's earned it.

Yes at one time that desire had come hand in hand with the desire to sample as many different lovers as possible, because he never says no to pleasure; and sex being different with every conquest consequently comes in an infinite number of flavors. But plans change and Sebastian is not adverse to adjusting his aims to suit them when there's something unexpectedly more to be gained. Modeling offers no such enticements, but modeling for Kurt in his hour of need comes with the bonus of melting some of that ice frosting over Blaine's heart so he's doing it.

God help him, but he's been sitting in this same chair for an hour now and his ass hurts. Not even the good kind of hurt that comes after a good round of over fucking but the regular 'move your lazy ass' kind. It really sucks.

"Smythe! If you don't stop fidgeting." Kurt hisses around the long pins he's got clenched between his teeth. Humme's got yards of fabric in his hands and pins are everywhere. They have to do a lot more altering than Kurt had anticipated, and while it's sort of delicious to watch Hummel get so flustered without even having to exert effort, Sebastian's smart enough not to push it. Not with so many sharp implements at Kurt's disposal. Apparently the guy before him had been pretty buff. Sebastian's no wimp but he can't exactly escape the fact that he's long and skinnier than not.

They've been in this back room of Stephen's studio for what feels like forever and there are a hundred and one things going on around them. Clothes and fabric and people rushing back and forth, people carrying equipment and guys with headsets and clipboards, all of it kept in time by the regular flash of a camera as photos are taken.

"Je l'écoute, chérie" the smartly dressed woman Sebastian remembers seeing with Kurt earlier says as she comes striding across the room holding a long white box. "Kurt c'est dangereux, non? And I have sworn to tell no one where he hides the bodies so no one will ever find you. Think of your poor mother."

Sebastian might be gay but it doesn't stop him appreciating a fine figure. He can't say he's never kissed a woman or gotten a little too tossed and woken up in some strange predicaments. Kurt's little friend is cute, and if he were into boobs he'd say hers were nice. He's definitely an expert on ass and hers is definitely worth taking a look. She's got a pretty face framed by shampoo commercial glossy hair that can't decide whether it's blond or red and an epic bitch face that's unexpected given her blue doe eyes and the sweetness of her smile when she turns to Kurt and opens the box in her hand.

"Sebastian has no mother Élise, he was created by a coven of vindictive witches from pond scum and toad stools," Kurt quips as he takes the pins from his mouth and quickly sticks them in seemingly random places. As Élise withdraws a pair of black somethings- Sebastian can't quite crane his neck to see back that far- he coos excitedly and asks, "Oh honey you did it! Andthey'll fit him?"

"Well I don't think they'll last longer than the show as they are mostly thread and glue, but yes they will fit and he will look marvelous, no?" Élise responds with an unabashedly smug smile.

"Vous êtes incroyables!" Kurt gushes, letting go of the billowing contraption he insists is a shirt and rushing to take the black boots- now that Kurt isn't holding pins Sebastian doesn't hesitate to turn and get a good look at them- from Élise and wrap her up in a hug. "Oh my god, these are remarkable. I can't believe you finished them in time."

"And what pray tell is so incredible?" Sebastian asks eyeing the boots in Kurt's hands skeptically. They are clearly more fashionable than practical, appearing to be made almost entirely of suede and brass buckles. "Am I suppose to wear those?"

"These cretin, are an Kurt Hummel original design and yes you're wearing them," Kurt says, pinning Sebastian with a bitch glare that he's sure terrifies lesser men. "Élise just spent days making these to size for you and you're going to look fabulous, so a little gratitude Smythe would be nice."

Sebastian snorts at that and flops his arms, staring pointedly at the billowing white material draped over his arms and torso. He's pretty sure he jostles a pin or two loose, he surely hopes so as Kurt looks entirely too excited about dressing him up like some lame excuse for a pirate.

"I look like Black Beard and I should be grateful?"

"Don't be ridiculous, chérie" Élise laughs patting his cheek in a condescending way he actually admires for its effrontery. "You'll look much more like Orlando Bloom and his black pearl pirate chic."

"Marvelous," he trills, dripping sarcasm. "Just what I always wanted to look- Owe!" Sebastian hisses with pain and crouched at his side Kurt smiles smugly. "Kurt that just stabbed me!"

"I'm well aware" Kurt responds cheerfully, patting Sebastian's thigh as he dumps the boots in his lap." Go ahead, squirm and complain but for every pin you force me to replace I'll make you bleed putting it back."

Sebastian is about to tell Kurt just what he thinks of that- what he thinks of the other mans superior attitude when he owes Sebastian his ass for saving his neck like this- when over in his messenger bag his phone goes off.

_I like your pants around your feet_

_And I like the dirt that's on your knees_

_And I love the way you still say please _

_While you're looking up at me_

_You're like my favorite damn disease_

Sebastian's heart drops into his stomach at the sound of the familiar tune, because there's only one person he ever assigns that tone to. He only does it when they're on a break or when he's mad and wants to get a rise out of Blaine because Blaine is so freaking sensitive about being objectified and baffling embarrassed by his own desires.

He acts like what they do, how hungry they are for each other, is something to be ashamed of, something to shh about and 'think of the children'. Sebastian personally thinks the children would love to know and it's a damn shame if a body goes their whole life without knowing what it feels like to completely take another person apart; to watch them die the tiny death with your name on their lips. It's pretty damn epic. Children of the world, make thee no mistake.

"If you move to get that-" Kurt warns even as Sebastian is leaning forward to do just that.

"Well then you bring it to me then, hurry!" Maybe he should stop and think about whether or not he should talk to Blaine right now, if it wouldn't be better to stick to his carefully laid plans, but he's been up all night and waiting all morning for something he never actually thought he'd get, and somehow he's getting it, and that's _Blaine_ calling him, so that's all the thought needed.

"We're in the middle of an important fitting. Whoever it is can wait," Kurt insists, pushing him back down into his seat with a stern glare. "And while we're on the subject, why on earth is that outrageously trashy song even in your phone?"

"It's-" Sebastian begins but Élise interrupts him, reaching excitedly for his bag with a cooing sound.

"It is your lover, no? Blaine?" She manages to get his phone out of the front pocket, and it thankfully hasn't gone to voicemail yet.

Sebastian feels another sharp prick in his side and he hisses, jerking his gaze from Élise with his phone to glare at Kurt.

"Stop it!" He demands, but Kurt just glares and hisses with venom in his voice, "Stop disrespecting my best friend! Nickelback Smythe?"

"Oh of all the..." Sebastian tries to reach for the phone and Élise swats his hand away. God he really hates these people! "I assign him a ringtone all about how much I love how well he takes it and your issue is with the band?"

"Why would I care about you two liking to fuck? How is any of that news to me? Nickelback is where I draw the line however. It's so trashy!"

"Oh you really shouldn't dare me to show you trashy, Gay Face. And just so you know-"

"You missed your call, Cherie" Élise informs him with far too much amusement.

"Look, can I have my phone please?" Sebastian asks through tight lips.

"No," she says, patting his cheek again. "Though it is sweet how eager you are to talk to your lover. Truly adorable."

"Truly disgusting," Kurt mutters and Sebastian grits his teeth. He's decided that he pretty much hates Kurt and all his friends. When he calls back, if he finds out Blaine hasn't called to beg his forgiveness and nominate him for the Nobel prize for putting up with this shit he might just toss his phone off the Eiffel tower and move to Peru.

"Oh he left you a voicemail!" Élise coos and Sebastian is seconds away from saying screw it and wrestling her for it. Fuck Kurt and his superiority complex, he had everything on the line with Blaine right now and he didn't care about anything else. That's why he's not mad when Élise actually has the gall to listen to his voicemail.

"He says he wouldn't have called you... Ah so angry, what did you do, Cherie?"

"Stop moving Sebastian!" Kurt swatts the back of his head. "Put it on speaker Élise or we'll never get this done." Élise giggles and complies.

"_... I haven't changed my mind and I won't. I mean it this time Seb, I can't do this. Shit. I shouldn't be doing this. You know how I feel and the reason I called is I was wondering if you'd talked to Dave recently." _Blaine's voice comes through the speakers and Kurt pauses in his ministrations at the mention of his boyfriends name.

"_I don't really know what's in my head right now but... something weird happened today and I think it's bad. I don't want to alarm Kurt so I thought... I mean I can't see how it would be good but I don't think Dave would do anything stupid either but... fuck I was just wondering if you'd talked to him. It's probably nothing. I shouldn't have called. You don't need to call me back."_

As the voicemail ends the smile fades from Élise's face and Sebastian watches Kurt warily, looking for signs that what he just heard is going to make him snap or something. He and Kurt might annoy the hell out of each other but he _is_ Blaine's best friend, and they have known each other for years now. Plus Dave's a pretty cool guy and Sebastian doesn't enjoy the the thought of him fucking things up with Kurt, because for whatever unfathomable reason, Kurt seems pretty adept at making his boyfriends so nuts about him they lose their minds without him and a minds a terrible thing to waste.

"He hasn't," Sebastian informs him, "talked to me I mean. Not about anything like that. Much as I try to get all of you to embrace having a little fun, Dave doesn't play around. You know that, Kurt."

Kurt blinks and slowly looks to him, as if he's only just remembering Sebastian's there. He snorts disdainfully, possibly at Sebastian for caring, and equally possible at the idea that Dave could carry on with so much as a side flirtation if it meant hurting what he had with Kurt. Sebastian thought it might be the latter. Dave was just boring that way.

"I know that Sebastian," Kurt says matter of faculty. "Less worrying about me and my love life please, because if you haven't noticed I don't have to flip my shit at every possible sign that my man might be stepping out on me. It's one of the perks of being in a relationship with someone you can trust."

Oh it was like that then? Screw Kurt, excuse the fuck out of him for caring.

"Kurt, if you have something to say about me and Blaine then you can shove it. I don't need a lecture from you of all people about how to take care of him."

"Okay you are seriously stupid if you think I won't stab you with these and claim I hit an artery by accident!" Kurt hissed. "How dare you-"

"How dare I what? Break his heart like you did? That was all you honey, and you can say whatever you have to about growing apart and all those other sweet little lies you tell yourself so you can sleep at night, but lets be real." Sebastian smiles because he loves this. He knows exactly when he's hit an opponents nerve and like a shark who can smell blood in the water he circles. "Come on it's easy. Say it out loud. You wanted someone else and you strung him along just long enough to get the balls to go after what you really wanted. It happens. Dave's a catch isn't he? Does you just like you like doesn't he? You only have to feel guilty if you keep pretending to be something you're not, saint Kurt."

"What I'm not-" Kurt grips his shoulders and leans down to whisper forcefully next to his ear, "-is taking that shit from you! Grow up. Accept the fact that you're not as hot as you think you are, sweetheart. I promise it doesn't hurt. Just admit that your problem with me is he wanted me and all your throwing yourself at him didn't change a thing. He still didn't want you and your poor little ego just can't take that."

"My ego? Really?" Sebastian scoffs, wanting nothing more than to stand up and rip the clothes Kurt has been meticulously tailoring to his frame and punch that pasty faced little choir boy in the teeth.

He holds back because as much momentary satisfaction as it would give him, the consequences in the long run just aren't worth it. Blaine would probably never speak to him again and fucking hell what does it say when he can't even punch Blaine's asshole ex without worrying about alienating him forever. Sebastian fucking hates that. Hates Kurt, and if he can't kick his ass he at least wants him to hurt in other ways.

"Why so angry all of the sudden Kurt? Or are we supposed to believe that saint Kurt and his latest lap dog are so perfect that you aren't actually burning inside because you don't have Dave trained to heel like you thought?" Sebastian feels a tug on his collar as Kurt inhales sharply and he grins because now it's on and if Kurt throws the first punch then all bets are off.

It's not to be however. Kurt's friend says something in rapid french and grabs him by the arm, pulling him back.

"Ça ne vaut pas la peine de le faire, Kurt!" With a shake of her head and a disapproving scowl she turns to Sebastian and snaps in English. "We have plenty of tape measures if you'd like to present and we can be done with this pissing contest? If not then I sit down and hold your tongue. I am not letting anything ruin the work I have done. Not you Mr. Smythe and not even you Kurt!"

Kurt opens his mouth as if he might protest but then makes an exasperated sound and closing it, looking uncomfortably chagrined.

"You're right," he admits and Sebastian's last hope that he and Kurt can finally have this out the way they've both always wanted to fades away. "We're not even angry at each other. At least I know I'm not angry with you. I'm sorry Sebastian."

Kurt's apology surprises him. Even though it's stiff and clearly hard for Kurt to get out, it's sincere and the last thing Sebastian was expecting. He wants to tell him to shove it, say something cutting but he's tired and there's this little voice in the back of his head (sounds like Blaine) that reminds him that Kurt is right. It's not Kurt he's angry at, not really.

"It happens," he replies with a shrug. He can't seem to meet Kurt's eyes and that's okay because Kurt is happy not to look at him either. "I believe you were sticking me with pins?"

TBC


End file.
